Step Aside for the Beauty Queen
by gotnoodles
Summary: High school reunion. Sakura was the most loserific high school student there ever was. What's worse, she became the talk until the very last day of her high school life when she asked the most popular boy,Syaoran, to a dance. Now, she returns. Changed.


Hello guys!

Guess who it is?

YAYUH Ms.Noodles at your SERVICE!

new fic, guys. leave lots of reviews if you like it, and i'll update sooner! TOODLES!!

* * *

Step Aside for the Beauty Queen

Chapter One: High School Drama

"Eriol…" 

"_Yeah?"_

"_You think you can do me a favor?"_

"_Depends…"_

"_It means a lot to me."_

"_It's something bad, isn't it? Your tone is different."_

"_I need you to make me pretty."_

"_Sorry, can't be done."_

"_Oh, come on. You know more about fashion than anyone else who've ever walked the face of this universe. Besides, wasn't it your dream to become the most famous beauty stylist?"_

"_Dreaming big was always your greatest quality, but Sakura, look at yourself. You're impossible."_

"_But it's you, Eriol. One and only you."_

"_True that."_

"_Please? It means a lot to me."_

And there it was. Then so… it all began.

Yes, it sure did. Ever since I took my first daring step into New York University, my ultimate pathway to succession, and until the very last day, my graduation, I've learned to become what I am this very day.

And what exactly am I?

I myself am the _Beauty Queen_.

It's finally high school reunion.

Those people, they all remember me.

No, not because of this image I now possess, but because of my past image.

Myself as a geek. Myself as a nerd. Myself as a complete loser who fell in love with that detestable one-and-only Syaoran. Myself as the number one gossip at school.

I will never in my life forget. That is sworn to secrecy. To whom is it sworn to secrecy?

My pride.

Ever since that incident, my pride is the only main thing I'm concerned about. It's actually the only thing I care about (besides Eriol). A person can betray me, backstab me, do whatever else that's worse to me, and I would not feel pain. No difference in it at all. It will have no impact on me whatsoever. That is unless that person does something to crush my pride.

And he has.

Syaoran Li is the person I will never come to forgive and forget.

He has brought me lower than this filthy earth that all creatures spat upon.

As I picture out the past event, it is still visible to me as if it only happened the day before. It was the day I skipped the national Science Fair, an event that I could have entered, and taken the gold prize home with me as I always have the previous years. But no, I decided to be a complete fool, and ask him to the one dance, "Sadie Hawkins Dance".

It was an only dance throughout the year that a girl gets to ask the guy out.

This is how it began.

"Miss Kinomoto, can you come here for a moment please?"

It was my science teacher, Mr. Ray, and I knew all too well of what he was to inform me. It was most definitely about the Science Fair. The contest I enter every year, and take the golden medal home with me. And awkwardly, his name, Ray Castillo, is always, for those past two years, engraved on the very back of it.

I very well did the project. I very well outlined it. I very well experimented it. All on my very own. But why is it that this man takes the credit?

Why must his name be initialized on the "All time best Science Teacher Award" for those two straight years?

He starts with nothing. He continues with nothing. Then when I show up in the picture, he becomes 'something'. Then when I leave, he becomes 'nothing' again.

A little bit of an appreciative "thank you" would have sufficed.

"Kinomoto, I'm sure you'll be entering the Science Fair again this year, now, won't you?"

It should be illegal for the person to be so goddamn obvious.

"Well, actually, not this time." I apologetically and politely told him.

The way the corner of his left eye started twitching with his mouth wide open was most definitely a Kodak moment.

Then he slowly came back to his senses and asked, "But Sakura. What do you mean not this time?

Is this man stupid?

"It means I'm not going to be entering this year, Mr. Ray."

"But why?" he exaggerated the 'why' part in a very depressing and desperate way.

"I have something else in mind." I told him, and before I could make my way to the locker, he blocked me and asked for the last time.

"Is it more important than the Science Fair?"

"Yes, Mr. Ray. That's why I'm not entering this year." I stated in such a matter-of-fact way, but goodness. Who would have thought it was going to be for a dance? At first, I just didn't feel like entering the contest, so I said I had something important to take care of. Oh, how I was painfully mistaken to do so.

The bell rang, and it was lunch.

It wasn't really my favorite part of the day.

In the cafeteria, I sat alone. I ate alone. I read alone.

Well, to be honest, I wasn't actually reading. It only looked like I was reading. I only _really_ read during my freshman and sophomore year of high school. Yes, it was during the tranquil times when I didn't know Syaoran existed.

The beginning semester of my junior year, I was staring off into Syaoran's table filled with groups of all the highness every lunch. Sadly, they actually called themselves that. "The Highness."

Just like any other average school, we had various cliques. Obviously, "The Highness" were the popular ones that dominated the whole school. Then there were the "Athletes", who knew nothing but sports. There were the "Dolls", which I preferred calling them "Blondies" instead. They were the cheerleader squads that were in fact, all blondes, who knew nothing but make-up, boys, and sex. There were the "Emo's" who happened to be the emotionally challenged and freaky people, "Classics", who happened to be ultimately rich and pampered, "Punks", "Nerds", "Losers", and etcetera.

You might be thinking that I was in the "Losers" category, correct?

Wrong.

I was too complete of a loser that I didn't even have a specified clique. I was just alone. Myself here. Myself there. Myself here and there, just anywhere. Alone.

That was before my junior year. Right before second quarter, I met another "non-fitter". That's what I chose to call myself. I didn't fit anywhere. So therefore, I was a "non-fitter."

Lame. I know.

Anyways, his name is Eriol. The only reason why he was a "non-fitter" was because he was gay. Yes, meaning homosexual. Not interested in girls. But in my opinion, that's just bullshit. I bet he's not entirely gay. Bisexual, perhaps, but not gay. But if one day he told me, "Sakura, I'm not really gay or bi," I would head on believe him.

How can I be so sure?

When you see a gay person, you know he's gay. They have that certain uneasy aura around them. When they're gay, their face says so. It says specifically, detailing, "Hi. My name is so-and-so. I'm gay." And then a little "heeheehee" at the end like an idiot.

Eriol, in fact, is not an idiot.

It doesn't take a retard to figure out he's straight.

My whole school was covered with ones worse off than retards.

Acting like a normal gay person, he brought feminine magazines like _Cover Girl_ on a daily basis.

The first time I talked to him, he came up to me. Well, every one came up to me. I never had the courage to come up to them.

"Hey, mind if I sit here?" He had his _Cover Girl_ magazine.

"Really?" I probably sounded desperate. Desperate to share conversations with an actual someone. Desperate to have a _friend_ for the first time of my lifetime. "You don't mind sitting next to me?"

"Better than them over there," he pointed to the "Loser" table where all the people were flinging baby tomatoes at one another.

"I would very like to agree."

He sat down across from me, opened his magazine, and just read.

Feeling uneasy, I decided to start off with a decent conversation.

"My name is Sakura."

"Hi."

Okay. He was odd.

"Do you always answer in short sentences?"

"Mhm." And he never looked up.

"What's your name?"

"Eriol."

"Nice name."

"I'm gay."

I couldn't help it. My orange soda went all over his face. Yet, he didn't even flinch.

"My goodness. I'm so sorry. It just came to me as a surprise." I took out my handkerchief and before I got the chance to hand it to him, he had his out, and was already wiping himself.

"Don't worry about it."

And with that, I never expected to see him again. On the contrary, he was there in my used-to-be lonely corner table the next day.

We both sat in silence.

And this time, he started with a conversation. "Sadies is coming. Have a date yet?"

The only thing that went on in my head was, "_Is he planning to ask me? I thought girls were supposed to ask the guys!_ _Or is this a little hint saying he wants me to ask him to Sadies. Wait a minute. Wasn't he gay?_"

And as if he was reading my mind, he said, "I'm not going."

It wasn't really a sigh of relief. I wouldn't mind going with him. But right then and there, Syaoran passed by. And then and there, I knew whom I planned to ask.

"I wouldn't ask him if I were you." Eriol suggested looking straight at me.

It amazed me how effortless it was for him to read other people's mind.

"What's so wrong with asking him?" I said feeling a small ache in my heart. I wondered if Eriol was already looking down on me. Unfortunately, he absolutely was.

"Look where he's head." And he gestured the "Highness" territory with his head.

"He's one of them?"

"That's obvious."

"So?"

"So, watch your back."

I wish I listened to Eriol several years back. He only stopped me once, and when he did, I should have ended it. Because the next day, Eriol told me as if everything was all okay, and only a fool would believe him. A fool like me.

"Take the chance if you want. Won't hurt to try."

However, he was wrong. I was wrong to believe he was right, but wrong is wrong, and he was wrong, and me believing him was wrong.

Just all wrong.

Too wrong, it interlocks all the wrong. And that is only if that makes sense.

Following days passed by.

"Stop wasting time, and do it." Eriol said that despiteful Monday.

The dance was held on Friday.

Feeling pressured, but wanting to do so, I forced myself to "stalk" him to his locker right after lunch. We had no classes with each other, and thank God we didn't.

When he slammed the locker and headed to his next class, I quickly put the letter into his locker. It wrote:

_Dear Syaoran,_

_You may not know much about me,_

_So I'm sending you this little plea._

_Ever since I saw you,_

_I couldn't keep my eyes off of you._

_I think you are the best _

_In this dumb school we all attend._

_So please hear what I have to say_

_It's really important, okay?_

_Please give me a chance_

_And go with me to the Sadie Hawkins Dance._

_Sakura Kinomoto._

By next morning, I was already the rumor of the day.

And that became rumor of the week. Rumor of the month. Rumor of the year. Rumor until the very end of my sorry high school life.

Which was worse, because at first, he said yes.

I kid you, not. I found myself leaping with joyous tears right in front of my locker as I saw the tiny note that was written, "Okay. –Syaoran."

Even if people laughed at me across the hallway, or during lunch, that bothered me the least. Because Syaoran said yes. And that was all it mattered.

"Good job," was all Eriol said, and lastly included, "Don't be too happy; you're gonna hurt yourself."

Once again, he was right.

On the day before the dance, I opened my locker and saw the outfit I was to wear. During Sadies, the girl and guy are supposed to go shop together for their matching clothes. Yet, I didn't mind. Even as I saw the outfit, a lime green Tinkerbelle shirt with glittery sets of wings attached to it, I cared less.

_Oh, Peter Pan and Tinkerbelle. I like it. _I thought. How foolish can a living being get?

Answer: Very.

Friday, I dressed up into the outfit. The last note told me to wear it and enter the school gates. The ticket was already there, so I didn't have to pay for anything. For an amateur, I thought that was indeed very sweet.

I went in. I couldn't believe my very own eyes.

I was the only one wearing a stunning (in a very bad way) lime green outfit with wings attached. No Peter Pan anywhere. No Peter Pan, but a very beautiful Syaoran holding hands with one of the "Classics"?

I know only few things about her. Daidouji, Tomoyo. The richest girl in our school.

For a split second, Syaoran looked at me. Not a very welcoming look, that was. He looked at me as if I was the most disgusting creature that ever walked the planet.

And then, there were the laughter among all the people in the gym.

I'm guessing, it was planned.

Very well, indeed. Very well.

He made a complete fool out of me.

Either ways, this time, it will be different.

Better yet, it is different.

I will see him.

I will see him straight into his eyes, fearless.

I will guarantee it on all the pain I've felt through hiding myself in the corner for those last high school years. I've completely concealed myself from the public just to brush aside his and his acquaintances' presence.

But this time, the once used-to-be laughter filled room will not point at me as the focus of humiliating attention. Nor will it include mad glaring gossipers sharing damn pitiful rumors about myself, but more of secret admiration compliments.

They will look upon me in awe, as if a goddess in human form who has fallen directly to earth from the heavens above.

They will adore me.

If not, I will make them.

And yes. That very includes…

Syaoran Li.

As soon as I enter that gate to the memories-filled school, they better step aside for the Beauty Queen.

And they sure as well, _will_.

* * *

So... how do you guys like it?

Is it bad?

New story, and I actually well thought this one out. It's not one of those that popped up in my head randomly.

Well, no matter how bad the review may be, give it a shot, because it's a way to make me become a better writer.

thanks then, and TOODLES!!

leave me lots of **LOVE**! nehaha.


End file.
